My heart was pounding louder then the marching drums. Every step was a step closer. A step closer to death, or to honour. I heard the signal to advance, and me and my fellow comrades charge towards the enemy. Our cries ringing out across the plains as our bodies were taken of by a lust for battle. A lust for revenge.
Several men were shot down as we charge towards them. I crouched low, hoping to avoid one of the deadly missiles, I felt one screech past my ear, leaving a ringing sound vibrating through my body. But I didn't care, I was ready.
I let out another battle cry as we neared the enemy, lowering my spear just as I saw the fear enter the eyes of my enemy, the sweat dripping down his forehead. I hurled myself at their lines, stabbing at anything my spear connect with, and sweeping my shield around, blocking oncoming strikes. I was like a demon. No. I was a demon.